


lost what's mine

by lovesense



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Angst, First Person, M/M, POV Brendon, Ryan has (probably) moved on, but Brendon's stuck in the past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 09:10:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5621632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovesense/pseuds/lovesense
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This just appeared in my mind and now it's here. Fuck Ryan and Brendon. Be best friends again, you fucks.</p></blockquote>





	lost what's mine

I can’t let go. Or maybe I don’t want to. In the grand scheme of things, they’re the same thing, aren’t they? It’s not like it matters anymore. He was the one who left, he was the one who broke up with me and quit the band and told me it was over. Done. Just like that, in a shitty hotel room on a night I couldn’t escape from.

And God, did I only wish him the worst. I was bitter for so long, desperately clinging to the idea of forgetting about him and his heart, or lack thereof. Every meaningless fuck, every angry lyric scrawled on tear-stained napkins, all just attempts at imminent failure. It’s not like he’d ever give me the chance to move on, anyway.

He wasn’t one for a grand gesture, except for that one night, when he pushed me away and fed me words that felt like a noose around my neck, when he broke us up and could have broken my fucking neck with the look in his eyes. That was the only time I’ve read him like a book.

Except that he didn’t really leave after that. A little bit of torture never hurt anyone, right? He could be anywhere he fucking wanted to be, in photo frames and in broken mirrors, shattered dreams and darkened alleyways. He’s always been there.

People see him still, just not in the same way I do. The fans. He doesn’t haunt them, he’s still in the same dimension. They say he looks like me, now, as if we didn’t look the same back then. As if we weren’t the same. We were. We probably are.

The truth is, I can’t ever really move on. It’s twisted up inside of my mind, everything that we were, it’s carved in my lungs and it’s burned into my throat. I can recall the exact way his eyes closed when he laughed. I still remember the way his fingers knew their way over a guitar, around a pen, on my body. I know what made him cry, what made him laugh, what made him fall in love.

Maybe it wasn’t just me that he fell in love with. Or maybe it was only me. I don’t know which one would be a worse truth now that it doesn’t matter. God, he knows how to make me feel worthless. He always will. He doesn't understand that, or maybe he just doesn’t care about what he rips to shreds.

I was his and he was mine. I am his. But my name has been erased in his mind, in his heart. I can’t be more than a mark among others. He isn’t mine anymore. He isn’t anyone’s. He just is.

I almost caved one night, called the number that wouldn’t even ring. I yelled at the walls instead. You’d think he doesn’t deserve every ounce of my being that is still devoted to him, that I would be allowed to move on, but I am chained at the ankle to what he’s left behind.

He’s winning in the race that I never wanted to join. And I couldn’t even catch him if I tried.

**Author's Note:**

> This just appeared in my mind and now it's here. Fuck Ryan and Brendon. Be best friends again, you fucks.


End file.
